Pain, love and Piggies
by Invader hooniemay
Summary: Different scenarios from the Zim and JtHM universes. RnR POSSIBLY ADDING MORE UNIVERSES EI. Thor, RoTG, Sonic etc
1. 1 Run

**Ok, so…I felt like writing but my little sister stole my USB! So…I'm starting something that I've wanted to for a while. This is not going to be regularly updated and none of these stories shall be liked unless written so. Oh yeah, and I own nothing…Um, that's pretty much it. Enjoy!**

**Story One: Run**

**Word count: 773**

**Zim****-JtHM-Both-****Other**

**Rated: T+ just to be sure**

**Pain****-Love-Piggies**

_All she could do was run. Run fast, run far and run now._

Holding her new born smeet in her arms and her one and a half year old's hand, they ran away from the searchlights, from the huge compound, from torture.

A siren blared as the Irken mother stumbled, still bloody from the labour of her smeet only less then an hour ago. She was weak, but she could never let those evil men have them; her two sons, the only things she had left.

The eldest was basically dragged by his mother, too young and innocent to understand any of this. To understand why he had heard screams as he slept, why his mother had been getting more and more anxious as the days passed, why he never knew his father.

Tripping, he fell over and lost his mother's grip. She turned and race back to her child, trying to comfort him in their native tongue. Looking up, fear seeped into her expression as she picked up her son and continued to run; where to, she didn't know. Just anywhere away from that horrid circle of Hell.

The moonlight was hidden behind cloud, which was about the only good thing that was going for the Irken and her children. Stars could not been seen, due to all the lights that were shining, trying to catch her in its unforgiving grasp.

She knew that PAK legs would a greater preferred option of travel for all three of them, but those…'scientists', as they called themselves, had jammed her PAK with technology that was alien to her, so that she could not fix it. She was hoping, praying to whatever God or being would listen, that they hadn't placed a tracking device in it too.

Lucky for them, something listened. The female Irken came across a large, dark cave. Panting and bleeding, she staggered inside.

"Mother?" asked the eldest smeet, as she tired to quieten his brothers crying. She looked to him, magenta eyes filled with fear and pain. "Why are they following us? What's happening?" his little eyes began to sting with tears. His mother came to him, worried but pushing away her own doubts, for the child's sake. Although it was extremely dark, her eyes shone with anxiety.

"…I don't know, honey. But I won't let them touch you…I promise."

He nodded, still scared but putting on a brave face. His younger brother's screams echoed and reverberated inside the cave, his mother trying her hardest to shush him.

Calls and yelling came from somewhere outside, speaking in a language that the smeet didn't understand. He never had.

His mother stood, started to panic, knowing that they were cornered. Her smeet clung to her leg, sobbing and whimpering.

Gunshots rung across the valley and through the cave, making all the hiding Irkens flinch. The newborn silenced for a moment, startled by the noise, then began to scream louder.

The mother kneeled next to her son and gave him some direct orders.

"Run. Go into the forest. Don't let them see you. You must promise me, that whatever happens, that you will not come out. Understand?"

Wiping away tears, he nodded. She could see how afraid, how innocent and vulnerable he was. Pulling him into an embrace, she whispered.

"Listen, I love you so much, so, so much. Everything's going to be ok, ok? You gonna be ok…"

Humans, screaming and yelling, were coming closer. The mother looked outside, hugged her boy tightly, and passed him his younger brother, who for the moment had ceased to cry. Shocked, the boy looked from the smeet in his arms to his mother with wide eyes.

She looked into his eyes, and told him something he'd never forget.

"You're too young to be going through all this…you're too young to die…remember, I'll always love you and never forget you. And in turn, you must never forget me and how much I love you. Promise?"

"Promise."

He ran out into some nearby bushes. From his position, he couldn't see inside the cave, but could see all too clearly the human soldiers coming for her; for them.

One of them, a young one, looked into the cave and called to his comrades. A whole group of them raced into the cave.

The smeets eyes widened as the guns fired, flashes and sound causing him to cover his antennae and squeeze his eyes shut. He prayed for it to all be over, for everything to be ok again.

The last thing was heard for miles was his mother scream; long, loud and spine-chilling enough to make a war veteran shudder.

**Rubbish ending, yes. But, oh well. Please R and R if you want me to continue**


	2. 2 Mindset

**Mk, well…I'm bored….and stuff…I may use some of these as stories later…**

**Story Two****; Mindset**

**Word count: ****858**

**Zim****-JtHM-Other**

**Rated: T+ for mild themes**

**Pain****-****Love****-Piggies**

_His blood flowed down the drain, along with his tears and sanity._

Zim stood over the basin, knife in hand. His gloves had been disguarded and now lay on the bench next to the sink, purple blood splattered all over the insides.

With shaking hands, the disguised Irken turned on the tap, sending the acid water right into the bloodbath.

It swirled down the drain, purple liquid sizzling and steaming as it vanished down the drain, along with Zim's will to live.

Looking back to the mirror, he saw his own tears stained face, a broken soul behind the indigo contacts. One of his antennae poked out from under his wig, limp in depression.

He'd told the Dib how he'd really felt about him. Then, he'd had his heart thrown on the ground, trampled on, and shattered into a million pieces. He'd hurt him, in a way that Zim never thought possible.

Tears streamed down his face and a few shallow sobs escaped from his lips. This was the last thing he needed, having been diagnosed with a severe mental illness only about a week ago. Squeezing his eyes shut, he sobbed harder and the blood flowing from his arms slowed. His PAK sent out small regenerating cells when the Irken got hurt, making him heal quickly.

Being in such a messed up and confused state of mind, the only way Zim found relief from the rejection was to slit his own flesh and feel his life force leave him, along with his hope.

The sobs got harder and harder, making him shake. Not being able to take it anymore, he grabbed the knife again and put it to his wrist.

"Masta?" a small voice came from the doorway. Zim looked into the mirror to see Gir watching him, his little cyan eyes carrying no understanding of what his beloved Master was doing. Feeling bad and not wanting Gir to see him attempt to end his own life, Zim snatched up his gloves and pulled them on and put the blooded knife in his PAK.

"Yes, Gir?" his voice was very shaky as he tried to keep it together in front of his SIR. Tilting his head to the side, Gir asked,

"Masta, what wrong? You is crying."

"Gir, don't-"

"Did you loose your piggie? You can haz mine!" he said, holding up a rubber piggie, trying to cheer up his sad Master.

_He doesn't get it. He never will._

He had an idea. Kneeling down to become eyelevel with his robot, he said,

"No thanks, Gir. Hey, how'd you like tacos for dinner?"

The SIR's face lit up. Oblivious to the plan behind those words, he nodded vigorously.

"Ok, you go get the tacos and…" he stopped. He didn't want his robot, his only real friend in the universe, to have the burden of seeing his dead body.

"And what, Masta?" Poor, innocent little Gir. He really had no idea. Thinking quickly, Zim answered.

"And go and get the D-" tears welled in his eyes when he thought of the human…his only reason for living. Taking in a breath, he continued. "The Big-head boy."

"Yay! Bighead boy!" Gir raised his metal arms in excitement. Smiling, but slowly dieing inside, Zim nodded.

"Yes. Get him and bring him here. Go."

Eyes turning red and saluting, Gir flew to the Crazy Taco. Watching him leave, Zim whispered, as if to himself, "Goodbye Gir."

After getting a huge bag of tacos and Dib, Gir kicked open the door of his base. Making his way to the table, Gir plonked down the tacos and was about to get plates when he saw something. A note, addressed to him and Dib.

"Oh, Santa left a note!" he picked it up and sat on the couch with it, trying to make sense of it.

Dib looked at it, rolled his eyes and took it off Gir. Turning it the right way up, the human read what the note had to say.

Something in Dib's eyes changed. He shook his head, slowly at first, then faster as he read more.

"No…No! Zim…oh, God no!" Dib ran from the house, screaming the alien's name. Confused, Gir zipped up his dog suit and followed.

For hours, Dib searched. He tried the Skool, the shopping centre, the park, anywhere he'd remembered seeing the missing male. Then it hit him.

He sprinted towards the beach, Gir hot on his heels. The raven haired young man bolted down the stairs, along the sand, down to the waters edge.

He was greeted by a black wig and a pair of indigo contacts that had been washed up on shore.

Gir didn't understand. He simply couldn't. He just didn't have the capacity to register what had happened, why he never saw his Master again, why Dib went into a state of depression, constantly saying stuff like 'I didn't mean it like that' and 'He never let me explain…I just wasn't ready'. And, most likely, he never would. All he had left of his Master was the wig and contacts that Dib had found on the beach those so little months ago.

**A/N; Mmmmmm…I try and be dramatic, but it doesn't seem to work…plz review, cause so far, it looks like I have only one reader….which is kinda depressing…**

**~Invader hooniemay, future queen of the fandom and not good at writing this stuff…at all!**


	3. 3 Two maniacs walk into a bar

**Story Three: Two maniacs walk into a bar**

**Word count: 1,481**

**Zim-****JtHM****-Both-****Other**

**Rated: 13+ for suicide references and possible sexiness ;)**

**Pain****-Love-****Piggies**

_The feel of blood. Oh, is there anything that feels better then hot, fresh blood?_

Nny strolled down the deserted street, the moon and stars above his head like the ceiling of heaven. But it could never be heaven. Not while Johnny the Homicidal Maniac was alive and well.

His wrists dripped blood onto the pavement, his neck was raw from the rope he'd used on himself not long ago. The belladonna tea he'd drunk had done nothing except give him a headache and the pills he'd taken had softened his senses.

His legs moved mechanically, his mind no longer within this body. Two fat little Styrofoam dough boys rode on his shoulders as he walked, arguing with each other. One wanted to help him with his wish to go over the stars, the other wanted him to send others over instead. Nny heard none of it. He felt nothing but the horrid emptiness within his soul. An emptiness only death could fill.

Then, the scream rang out across the sleeping city.

Nny and the Doughboys stopped, heads whipped up towards the sound. They all knew that sound: the sound of a kill. Before he knew what he was doing, Johnny ran towards where he thought the scream came from and abruptly ended. The endless maze of back alleys and hidden spaces would have made it harder, but Nny wasn't like any other person on earth. He felt like a string was attached to his heart, his soul, the emptiness, pulling him towards the killing, towards a death.

Over a fence, under a group of cars, up the water pipe on a building, the moon watching his every move. The Doughboys had to hold on very tight to Johnny's trench coat so they didn't fall off. And, if they were alive, die. Nny didn't notice though. He was preoccupied with trying to follow the string pulling at him almost painfully. He got to the roof of an old ware house, and saw it.

On the neighbouring roof, was a hunched over figure who looked to be holding another person, a young woman Johnny thought, rather tightly. The Doughboys, as soon as they saw it all as well, stopped their complaining to Nny and just watched.

Nny wasn't sure if the hunched figure was sad that the girl had died or had killed her. He knew one thing though: the girl wasn't ever going to see a sunrise again. Never smell a rose in bloom. Never laugh, never sing, never be happy. He wasn't sure how he felt about that.

The figure raised her head from the girl and, back to Nny, dropped her. The dead rolled unceremoniously away from her. The figures hair was as black as the night around her, with streaks as red and bright as blood. She was rail thin, just like Johnny, and just as pale. She wore a trench coat splattered with gore, some fresh and some not so much. Her boots were steel capped. Her hands covered in blood.

She raised her head to the moon and laughed. Her laugh was like rusty nails and razors slicing veins, like the laugh of a person who got sent to an insane asylum and escaped. Just. Like. Nny.

He could do nothing but stand there. He just stood there like an idiot and blinked. The Doughboys had climbed down from his shoulders and were tiptoeing over to her.

She turned abruptly, meeting Johnny's eyes with her own. They were as silver as the moon behind her, framing her. She was covered in blood and held a small dagger in her hand. She licked her lips of the gore all over herself as Nny realised what she'd been doing; drinking her victim's lifeblood.

The Doughboys were met by a thick, black cloud with red eyes. The cloud kept changing shape and hung by the gore-covered killer's feet. There was another girl behind her: she had pink and purple spiky puffs of hair and glare that could kill. Nny knew what they were without asking: they were headvoices.

Johnny just stared at her, as she did him. She seemed as equally surprised as he was, and understood what the Doughboys where to Nny. Neither could believe what they'd found: someone just like them.

No-one moved for a moment. Then, he spoke.

"So…you're like me?"

"It would seem so, sir." Replied the black haired woman, cleaning her dagger on her coat. The headvoice behind her, the one that looked like your average punk apart from her unnaturally bright pink eyes, growled. The shadowy one just nudged closer to her mistress, but never touching her.

"Your headvoice is growling at me." Nny said in a calm voice, assessing whether or not the person in front of hum was a friends or foe. She seemed to be doing the same as she answered.

"Do not mind SR. She can be very rude." She jerked her thumb at the pink haired headvoice. "This is Some Random, but I call her SR for short. And this, at my feet, is It." The cloud thing moved a bit and blinked.

"Pleasure. These are the Doughboys, Mr Fuck and Psycho Doughboy. Just call them Mr F and D-boy, they don't mind Right?" Johnny aimed the question at the Doughboys, but did not move his eyes from hers. He was a preditor, as was she, and lowering your eyes for a second could get you killed.

The Doughboys said nothing as they watched It and SR. Then It slithered up to her mistress's hand. She began to play with it, letting the shadow slip between her fingers and up her arm. But never touching.

"I can't touch my headvoices." She said, looking at her hand nonchalantly, as if reading Johnny's mind. Not looking at him portrayed the message that she didn't think he was of any danger to her. This angered Nny a bit. "If I touch them, well…I just don't touch them." She turned her eyes back to him, her insanity just under control, writhing under the surface of her cool façade. Nny looked to the moon, establishing that she wasn't a threat either, just to see what she did. He said to the moon.

"That's sad. I can touch mine. I can kill and drain a body of blood also. I just don't drink it."

She was right up against him, nose to nose, chest to chest, before he could think. He did all he could not to move away and throw her off the rooftop. Nny made a mental note that just before they were on different roofs as well. She was _fast_.

"Well, that's too bad. All that blood going to waste." Her eyes were level with his, the silver swirling like deadly Mercury. Nny held her gaze and stayed as still as he could.

"It doesn't go to waste. I use it to feed the Wall. Or else, we'd all be dead."

"Perhaps. That doesn't sound so bad though…" she dropped her gaze, sadness within the depths of her eyes. The humanity within her had distracted the predator long enough for Nny to get the upper hand.

He grabbed her and held her against the small wall that ran around the edge of the roof, below nothing to break her fall but the ground that seemed so far away. She struggled against his grip, then looked into his eyes. The predator was in control.

"Nice move, Ace. Kick a girl when she's down." She tilted her head and smiled slowly. "Not entirely fair though. Within a blink of an eye, she'd somehow gotten out from under his grip, kicked him in the back of the leg, bringing him down to his knees. The next thing Johnny knew, she was on top of him, smiling like an evil Cheshire cat.

"I'm hooniemay."

"Johnny."

She sat up, she legs straddled over his thin chest. Through her shirt, Nny could see her ribcage. She looked down upon him, and with a twinkle in her eye, she bent down and whispered in his ear. Nny closed his eyes, wanting the contact to stop. When he opened them again, he was alone with the Doughboys. Even the body of the forgotten victim had vanished.

"Nny, who was that? Them?" Mr F asked looking at Nny upside down. All he could do was blink as the last words she said rang within the confines of his brain:

"_Until we meet again. You better not have found a way to kill us by then, I'll get lonely. Oh, how I wish for your blood, Johnny. It would be as sweet as honey and as rich as Mark Zuckerburg. Ha ha ha, oh Johnny, don't you see? We are one and the same, soul mates. Your my other half, Nny. And I'm not sure if I like that or not._

**A/N: Yay! I finally did a JtHM one! I hope you like it.**

**Reviews:**

**X sikeokilla: Always good to hear from you, brother. Thank you for supporting me ^^**

**X InvaderZaz: Why thank you ;) I'm glad you enjoyed it**

**X thisismyworld17: Well, I hope Nny made it better for you ;) You actually gave me idea to finally do a Nny story, so thank you!**

**X meandGir: God luv ya, Gir! xx**

**X Invader Kat 27: Aww, why thank you ;) I hope you enjoy this just as much.**


	4. 4 A CUT FROM A STORY IN THE MAKING!

**I don't know, I wanted to publish this story for a while and if I get good reviews, I will. It's called the Academy of the Unwanted, Different and Talented and is IZxHarry Potter. **_**SO SHALL I CONTINUE?**_

**Story Four: AUDT cut- Chapter fourteen**

**Word count: 1901**

**Zim****-JtHM-****Other**

**Rated: OMG HARRY POTTER'S IN IT!**

**Pain****-Love-Piggies**

**Chapter Fourteen: Do you believe me?** – Dib

After showing his friends a vast array of photographic evidence, they each had very different feedback.

Ron was constituently commenting things like "Wow! He is such an alien! Hey, I can't see why no-one ever believed you, Dib!"

Hermione had an explanation for almost every photo. "Maybe the symbols are just that: symbols. Perhaps he got his last two fingers cut off at a young age. It's not uncommon to have water phobias."

Meanwhile, poor Harry couldn't seem to choose which side of the fence he belonged on, always changing his mind. "Well...he does seem pretty abnormal...But that shouldn't prove anything...I don't know..."

Dib thought he had a few more things that might convince Hermione and Harry once and for all. He scrolled through his videos and clicked on one, labelled nonsensically, '%015% Halt'.

The video started with Dib in a dark room, torch under his chin, causing him to look sinister. He was pointing the camera at himself as he said,

"Ok. So...video no. 4, taken in my secret hideout...that most of you probably know to be that old run-down adults-only restaurant. Aim: to prove to the world Zim's an alien menace from beyond."(At this point, the Dib watching commented, "Wow, I really do sound crazy!")

In the background, there were the sounds of struggle and someone yelled,

"Let me go, Dib-monkey! Or I'll...Lay eggs in your stomach or...melt your face off or something..." The camera turned to Zim, strapped to a chair, hair askew and hands cuffed behind his back and to the chair.

He struggled again, yanking at the hand cuffs, growling like an animal. He stopped briefly to glare at Dib, shaking from rage, then hissed and went back to struggling and screaming insults.

Dib turned the torch to shine right in Zim's eyes, contacts glistening from it. He hissed and lashed out at Dib, who quickly pulled back. Zim's eyes were full of pure hate, making there earlier encounter seem friendly.

Dib stepped forward and loomed over him, torch again shining in his face. The camera was aimed straight at Zim's face as Dib said, slowly and quietly,

"Confess. Are you an alien?"

For a moment, Zim looked helpless, shaking his head, eyes distant and tortured. Then he squeezed them shut and began to growl, teeth bared.

Dib leaned over him more and, in the same tone as previous, whispered,

"Liar. This'd all be over if you just...co-operated. I've got water here, Zim. Please, seriously, don't make me use it." The camera shifted as Dib seemed to kneel down to Zim's level. "Now, I'm going to ask you again...are you an alien? Tell the truth."

Zim's eyes opened slowly, glaring at the camera, sending shivers down Ron's spine.

Zim's patience seemed to be running thinner as the moments ticked by. The corner of his mouth was raised in a snarl and the growls got louder. His breathing seemed to get heavier with anger. He answered, voice low and dangerous like Dib's,

"Let...me...go Dib...don't make me do something awful to you...just...let me go!"

"Then tell the truth!" he whispered back, voice laced with acid. "I'm going to ask you again, Zim. But this time, with a little something..." the camera shifted again as he stood up and walked to a table with an empty glass and a jug, full of water, on a tray. He picked up the tray after placing the camera on it temporarily.

Zim looked up to see his nemesis kneel down again and pour a glass of water. Seeing that, his whole expression changed. The hate left his eyes, only to be replaced by...fear.

He began to struggle again, screaming for the help that was never to come; they'd both known that. The Dib watching the video went to exit out if it, remembering it's ending, but was stopped by three curious young teens. He shrugged and continued to let it play, warning his friends that it may seem a bit sadistic.

Back in the video, Dib had the glass in his hand, holding it in front of Zim's frightened face. He kept pulling his head away, only to have his capturer grab his 'hair' to stop him. Dib'd set the camera to auto-film mode, giving it the power to hover but not move...one of his dad's inventions.

He raised the glass above Zim's head and slowly tipped it, poised for Zim to give him a reason to let the water hit him. Zim, noticing what Dib was planning, began to struggle again, on numerous occasions nearly making Dib spill the water on him anyway.

Without warning, Zim screamed and Dib was knocked back by-

"Wait..." said Hermione, pausing the recording. "What..is that?!" She pointed to the long, metal, spider-like PAK leg.

Dib turned to her, explaining,

"That's a PAK leg. It comes out of that thing on his back. There are four of them and when he uses them to walk or something, he's really tall. It's kinda cool." He let his friends look at it for a while and then pressed play.

Zim activated his other three PAK legs, shattering the chair and used them to tower over the crumpled Dib, who'd been threw through the rotting timber wall. Realising that he could be in danger at that moment, he leapt out of the wall and ran to the jug, scooping it up before Zim could even think to stop him.

Growling, Zim opened his PAK and a small ball flew out, floating in front of him. The image of a little, cyan eyed robot appeared. It saw Zim and yelled,

"HI MASTA! I'M MAKIN' WAFFLES!"

"Gir!" Zim commanded the image, "Help me! It's the Dib-human again, he's caught me and taken me to...some place that smells of old people and vomit! Come and get me; bring the Voot. And something painful...I need to teach Dib here a lesson!"

The robot's eyes turned red and his voice was different as he replied,

"Yes, my Master!" and saluted, then his eyes turned back and he asked,

"You want pea's wit' dat?" then the image vanished and the ball flew back into Zim's PAK.

When Zim looked around for Dib, his expression was fearful again. His eyes scanned his environment, not liking the fact that his nemesis was hiding with one of his great weaknesses. He didn't have to look long.

A long chain came out from the shadows, wrapping itself around Zim's torso and PAK legs, causing him to fall flat on his face.

Dib jumped from the shadows with the jug in hand. He sat on Zim's back and held the jug to the back of his neck, a few drops slashing onto his flesh, causing it to sizzle. Zim hissed as his skin burned and bleed a little. A small evil smile crept onto Dib's face as he poured more onto his green neck.

Zim screamed, louder and steam was visible rising from his bubbling, seared neck. Hermione pointed to something on the screen.

"What's that purple stuff running down his neck?" she asked, looking at Dib, confused. He looked back at her as he answered.

"Blood. His race, whatever it may be, bleeds purple blood."

"Oh." Was all she said as she turned her attention back to the screen.

Zim was whimpering at this point, biting his tongue as to not scream again, blinking back tears.

Dib reached for his hair and tore away the wigs, casting it aside. Zim's antennae were lowered in pain as he reach forward slowly, wanting to touch them. His hand brushed one and it had immediate effect; Zim's whole body shuddered and the wiry appendage shrank back at his touch.

Zim was now shaking and his breathing was becoming shaky, trying not to sob, to show weakness. His antennae were curling in on themselves as the blood ran down his neck, bubbling and blackening.

Dib reached for Zim's contacts when Zim bit him. Dib was about to pour more water on him when he realised that Zim's bite wasn't like his usual ones. His hand hadn't been torn in half and blood wasn't gushing everywhere. It hadn't even broken the skin. It was almost like a puppy bite, except puppies don't have near razor sharp teeth.

He looked at Zim, puzzled. He pulled his hand away; Zim didn't even fight him. Confused he reached for the contacts again. Gently, he pulled one out, Zim not seeming to care. Placing it on the tray the water had been on, so they didn't get dirty, he reached for the other. Zim turned his head from the hand, eyes closed. He was shaking his head, pleading,

"P-please...no more...s-stop...I-I'm begging you..."

Dib furrowed his brow. "Stop what?"

Zim hid his face from Dib and the camera, body still trembling. He whispered something that the recorded Dib nor the viewing four picked up.

"What? Zim, what's wrong with-"

"Fine!" He yelled, startling Ron, Hermione, Harry and both Dib's. "Fine. I give up...I hate this stupid planet and its stupid people! What do you want from me Dib?" he looked up to Dib pleadingly and defeated. "What do you want? Do you want a confession? Is that it? Fine! You win! I am a proud member of the race of, not humanity, but of Irkency! I'M IRKEN, ALRIGHT!? HE WAS RIGHT!...I'm an alien..."

Dib was thunderstruck. For a long moment, no-one moved.

Then, finally, Dib got off Zim and began to undo the chains. Zim looked at him, eyes full of innocence and awe. When the chains were loose enough, he rolled over, retracted his PAK legs and sat up slowly, cautious of anything Dib might do. Dib was sitting there, also cautious, holding his wig and contact.

Looking away, he sighed and gave them back to Zim. He took them carefully, never taking his glassy eye or still contact-covered eye from his enemy for more than a second or two.

Placing his contact back in his eye and wig on his head, Zim said nothing. Watching him and taking mental notes about him, Dib said nothing either.

Dib noticed that there was a pair of bright, cyan eyes watching them watching each other. Seeing that he'd finally been noticed, Gir sprang out from the shadows and yelled,

"I was the turkey ALL ALONG!" then he began to dance while singing in, what Dib thought, was Irken. Whatever it was, Zim understood it. He laughed a little, shaking his head at the dysfunctional SIR. He looked back to Dib, then seemed to remember that they where enemies, commanding his robot to attack him.

Gir's eyes turned red again and again Hermione paused the video. Before she'd even said anything, he asked for her,

"Why are his eyes red?" she nodded and Dib continued. "Well, it's weird...when his eyes are that bluey colour, he's normal...well, his version of normal; crazy. When they're red, he goes all serious and does what he's told...until his eyes turn that blue again."

Hermione nodded again and pressed play.

Gir leapt at Dib, and then hugged him. Zim saw the camera and threw a rock at it, causing the whole thing to go static. The video ended soon after.

"Ok..."Hermione said. "I believe you Dib."

"Me too..." added Harry. "Now...what do we do with this knowledge?"

Hagrid, who'd been behind them, startling them all by asking,

"What knowledge?"

**A/N; Review. That is all**


	5. 5 Fiz origin poem - In the Labs

**AN – Back bitches! Here's my first origin story. Its for my OC Fiz, an Irken cyborg and a Membrane Labs test subject. I had to do it for school :/ Let me know what you think!**

**Story Five: Fiz origin – In the Labs poem**

**Word count: 587**

**Universe: Invader Zim**

**Rated: Dunno…just read it…**

**Pain****-Love-Piggies**

I can't believe it

Why is this happening to me?

I'm living in a metal Hell

Too scared to breathe

Should I try to escape?

I know it's a stupid idea

But one thing I know for sure

Is that I can't stay here

Every day inside the labs

Never seeing the outside

Is it even out there?

Would I see it if I died?

Trapped between these four walls

No window, always locked

And when they take me out

I get dunked in water and shacked

I get hit, beaten, cut

They do lots of tests on me

I always seem to be in pain

But no-one really ever sees

The metal in my skin

In my face, in my brain

It's powers are one of the few things

That helps to keep me sane

Roxy says it'll get better

It couldn't possibly get worse

When all the bad stuff happens

I always run to her first

Why does this happen?

Because of my skin, because of my race?

I don't even think it exists

I'm the only one with this colour on my face

There's one I'm really afraid of

More so than the rest

He'll strap me to a metal table

Take off my clothes with finess

I don't talk about what he does to me

I don't even say his name

He won't stop until his satisfied

He once beat me until he came

Sometimes I scream at night

Sometimes in the darkness I cry

Sometimes I try to kill myself

But I always want to die

I'm scared of the whole world

Or at least what I have seen in it

Some rare times I feel something like a splinter close to happiness

But then the needle's bite makes my teeth grit

I talk to the walls

I hear them in my mind

Even when I close my grey eyes

The words are something close to kind

All these lies

All this pain, all this fear

All these tests

All these people who hurt me are always near

Don't try to fix me

I'll forever be broken

There is nothing here

Hearing the words that he has spoken

My attacks are getting wore

I can barely control myself

I sometimes wish they'd end me

With one of those poisons on the shelf

He follows me around a lot

That man that does the bad things to me

I beg and cry and tell him to stop

But he continues on with glee

He says it's our little secret

And if I told anyone

He said he'd hurt me

Worse then he'd ever done

When I'm alone

Which is the majority of the time

I sing songs of pain and sorrow

And I make these songs mine

I'm living a lie so I can hide

I get no sleep at night

My real name is Experiment 1215440

But Roxy says to change it to Fiz is alright

I feel like something bad is coming

I feel the tension build

Roxy won't tell me what it is

She is my human shield

I feel line only a shell

A thing without a soul

I'm empty as Hell here in this place

As evil as it is old

My choice has been made

Even against all of my fright

I'm going to escape and actually live my life

I'm getting out of here tonight

I shall see the moon

I shall see the stars

I shall see the sunrise

I'm breaking out from these bars

**AN – Review or die x)**


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